Chance
by The Taciturn Pianist
Summary: Switzerland is stuck. Years of standing by and watching the world burn have taken their toll on the neutral nation, but he can't leave Liechtenstein behind. Will an unlikely nation's whim save him from himself? WARNING: Angst, cutting, and copious amounts of Prussia's awesomeness. I... I don't know how this happened. IJUSTLOVETHISPAIRING ANDITJUSTHAPPENEDMAN


Switzerland said goodnight to his sister and hurried off to his room. He closed the door as quickly but quietly as he could, locking it before walking over to his bedside table. Vash opened the drawer and rummaged around through it frantically. He finally found what he was looking for: a small razor. The blond haired boy pushed his left sleeve up impatiently and tore off the bandages sloppily wrapped around it. He never bothered with the gauze too much, since he knew it would never stay on for long.

He stared down at his arm while sitting on the floor, facing away from the door. Switzerland sighed and positioned the razor on his wrist, over a space with the least angry red marks ripping across. With one more deep breath, he quickly swiped the instrument off to the side. He winced slightly. It hurt, sure, but it took away from his mental pain. If not for Lili, he probably would have just committed suicide. He wasn't sure if nations could die, but he didn't want to risk it if it meant potentially leaving his precious sister behind.

Neutrality could really be awful at points. He remembered when he closed his doors to the escaping Jews from different parts of Europe, condemning them to almost certain death. He ripped the blade across his arm once more, to ease the sting of the memory. He remembered the Axis and Allied planes he shot down. Two more cuts. Vash was religious to an extent. He believed in God, but not His forgiveness. The Swiss knew his sins couldn't be forgiven.

"B-brüder…?" his younger adoptive sister called from outside his room. Shit. He answered as naturally as he could manage through his newly noticed tears.

"Ja…?" Switzerland responded. Liechtenstein was silent for a moment before speaking.

"U-um… Preußen just called… He said he'll be visiting you tomorrow, but he didn't quite ask as much as state that…" she explained. Vash groaned.

"If he shows up, I'll shoot him." was his response. Liechtenstein giggled softly, finding her brother's trigger-happy tendencies to be quite silly.

"Okay… Guten nacht, big brüder!" she chirped before scampering off to her room for the night.

"Ja…" Switzerland confirmed quietly. "Guten nacht… Liechtenstein." He said that, but he knew his own night would be long.

"Liechtenstein, oi!" Prussia greeted her cheerfully, holding up his hand in free-spirited salutation. She smiled.

"Hallo, Gilbert. Brüder's still sleeping, I think. I'll wake hi-" before she could finish, Prussia was already half way up the stairs, calling down to her.

"Make breakfast for three people today! Kesesese!"

"O-oh, okay!"

Prussia reached the top of the stairs. The white haired German hadn't been to the Zwingli household many times before. He didn't really know where Switzerland's room was, but he tried anyway. He opened every door he saw, but wasn't quite successful. That is, until, one door wouldn't open.

"Kesese, found it!" he declared victoriously, pumping his fist in the air. He began knocking on the door. "Yo, Vash! The awesome me is here, so get yourself out of bed and bask in my awesomeness! Ja, here I am! No need to be so shy, come on out!" he blabbered, feeding his own ego. He waited for a minute after his obnoxious wake-up call, but became confused when not so much as a gunshot was heard from the room. "Huh… The neutrality-fangirl sleeps pretty soundly." He noted to himself. That's when he smelled a stench he knew all too well: the metallic scent of blood. The smile faded from his face. 'What the hell happened in there? Was he attacked?' Prussia thought to himself. 'Maybe he shot himself by accident in excitement when he heard I was coming.' He mused. Gilbert shook his head quickly. Even if that were the case, he wouldn't have any time to goof off. He raised his foot and "awesomely" broke the door down. He didn't expect to see a passed-out Swiss on the ground, with his mutilated arm in full view. "Sw-Switzerland!"


End file.
